


The Doctor Walks Into a Bar

by UnluckiestFridays



Series: Drabbles And One-Shots [3]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alcohol, Drunken Shenanigans, Gen, Grumpy twelfth doctor, Humor, Multiple Doctors (Doctor Who), Tiny Bit of Angst at the End
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-02-20
Packaged: 2019-10-20 17:06:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17626223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnluckiestFridays/pseuds/UnluckiestFridays
Summary: The Doctor walks into a bar.The Doctor walks into a bar.The Doctor walks int-Error.





	The Doctor Walks Into a Bar

**Author's Note:**

> There's more speech in this than I'm comfortable with, but whatever lol

The Twelfth Doctor lifted his glass to his lips and tipped back his head, emptying its contents into his mouth. He swallowed the alcoholic beverage down and winced when it burned his throat, chest, and then stomach. With the glass now empty, he placed it down on the mat on the bar. He called the old bartender over to him and requested another drink.

 _Screw Nardole_ , he thought. He was the Doctor, he could do whatever he wanted.

"Howdy, partner," a voice piped up as the owner of it plopped down on the stool next to him. He rose an impressive eyebrow and turned to look at the woman. He gave her a skeptical once over, internally critisising her atrocious outfit, then returned his sights to the bartender who had just handed him his drink. He gave the man some of the planet's currency and thanked him. 

"Rude," the woman huffed when he showed no sign of answering her. 

A breath of irritated air blew from his nose and he turned to face her. "Whatever it is you're selling, I'm not interested," he told her then continued drinking his blue-coloured drink. 

Suddenly his arm was jerked as the woman hit him. He turned to glare at her only to see her rivalling his own glare with her own. "I'm not selling anything. God, were we always this ignorant? No wonder Clara gave us those cards," she muttered the last part, but he heard her as clear as day. 

"Sorry," the Twelfth Doctor asked incredulously, "am I supposed to know who you are?" 

"Give it a moment, it'll come to you," she said, her cheery personality coming back to her as she watched him expectantly.

The Doctor ran his eyes over her for a second time, only now taking everything in. The terrible fashion, the child-like joy radiating from her, and was that a sonic screwdriver poking out from her pocket? He returned his eyes to meet her own, and groan left his lips without his consent. Her smile fell and she glared at him. 

"You're..." he stuttered, trying to find the right words without offending her... well, himself. Themself? Herself? "You're me?"

The woman, the Doctor, he, she, they? Nodded enthusiastically, glad he'd finally caught up. Without another word, Twelve lifted his glass and drank half its contents.

"I take it this the next one along?" He questioned. 

"Yep!" She said and signalled the bartender over. "It's a good one." 

"Why a.. why a woman?" He asked, but felt like he was treading on sacred ground. An eyebrow rose in her direction once again.

"I dunno," she mused, eyebrows furrowed, "it just happened, I guess. I like it, though. It's different. A good different." 

"I bet," he said. "So, why are you here? We shouldn't be with together." 

The Doctor, Thirteen, swivelled in her seat until she was facing the wall of different alcoholic beverages behind the bar again. "Not sure. The Old Girl brought me here and wouldn't let me leave. Obviously I don't remember any of this, so I thought I'd come check the place out," she answered. 

As he nodded, another person plonked themselves down right next to him. For a moment, he was annoyed, being sandwiched between himself and some stranger, but when he and his future self looked at the other person, any retort left his mouth. Anything she might've said vanished, too. 

The newcomer turned to look at him and rose his own nonexistant eyebrow when he found them both staring at him. Twelve trailed an eyebrow down to look at the brown, tweed jacket the man was wearing and winced. Had he ever had any fashion sense? 

"Can I help you?" The man asked when he and Thirteen continued staring at him. Neither of them answered and the man found himself looking behind him just to be sure it was him they were gaping at. Seeing no one behind him, he turned his attention back to Twelve and Thirteen. "Oh, sorry, is someone sitting here? I-I can move, if you want?" He asked, already getting up.

"No, no, it's alright. Just didn't expect to see you here, Doctor," Thirteen said, earning a glare from Twelve and a curious look from the floppy haired man. 

"You know me?" He asked, straightening his bowtie in a way that Twelve knew he did when his ego was being inflated. 

"I should think so, seeing as we were both you at one point," Thirteen said carefully.

The man stared at her and Twelve for a moment in confusion, taking a moment to understand what she meant before he squeaked in understanding. "Oh. Oh, I see. Why did we get so old? And... feminine?" He asked in a high pitched voice.

Both Twelve and Thirteen looked at him blankly, unimpressed.

"What?" He asked. 

"I expected that from him," Thirteen said, gesturing towards Twelve.

Before Eleven could dignify her with answer, a fourth person who had been walking past, stopped short when he spotted Eleven. 

"You again?!" He demanded. 

"What are you doing here?!" Eleven questioned back, standing up to join the spikey haired man wearing a brown trenchcoat.

"What is this, a reunion?" Twelve demanded of no one. He brought his drink up and downed the lot, knowing he would need it if he was to be in the company of three other versions of himself. Or was it themself, now? 

Ten looked at him in confusion then turned his sights to Eleven who looked positively awkward standing there. "Is he with you?" Ten asked Eleven quietly.

"Uh, well... he is- _they_ are both us," Eleven explained pointing to both Twelve and Thirteen. The latter waved merrily while Twelve didn't bother greeting him. Why should he when he had already been him? And anyway, he had gone to that bar to be alone. He supposed this was the Old Girl's way of messing wih him. He wanted to be alone, and now he was. 

"Both of them?" Ten asked. "Huh," he said, looking at Thirteen, "suppose it was bound to happen sooner or later. But, wait!" He suddenly said, going back to Eleven, "how can they be here? I thought you were supposed to be our final regeneration?"

"It's a long story," Twelve answered when Eleven shrugged helplessly, "just accept it." 

"Alright," Ten said, enunciating each letter. He then moved and took Eleven's seat, forcing the floppy-haired man to take the empty seat beside Thirteen instead as there was nowhere else to go.

 A silence fell upon them as Twelve ordered his next drink, knowing he'd be needing it if his other selves were going to be joining him, until finally, Eleven was the first to crack and spoke up, "so, I suppose this is why Sexy brought us here?" 

"Looks like it," Thirteen answered, drinking a horrible looking beverage. 

"So, no immediate threats?" Ten prompted. 

"Not that I know of," Twelve said. 

"Okay," nodded Ten, "might as well order a round of drinks... Anyone know the currency here?"

With a roll of his eyes, Twelve dug into his jacket pocket and pulled out a few shiny coins. He handed them over to Ten who slid off his still and walked over to where the bartender was currently serving.

* * *

"And... and then I said," Thirteen slurred, a tall glass gripped tightly in her hand with the liquid threatening to spill any second, "'Graham, you can't go in that room,' I put my foot down," she told them seriously, pointing a finger in Ten's face, "but he went in anyway! Thought I was jus' bein' dramatic! He should have listened t' me, 'cause nex' thing I know, he's bein' dragged away by a robot tentacle! I don' even know where it came from!" 

Ten, Eleven, and Twelve cracked up, faces reddening with their laughter. They knew how chaotic living on the TARDIS could be, and how sometimes the Old Girl liked to put things in random places where they would soon be found by her victims. They'd all fallen victim to the TARDIS' pranks time and time again.

"I guess we've go' that to look forward t' then," Ten nudged Twelve, who in turn nodded. 

"Should be fun," he agreed. Out of the four of them, despite the amount of alcohol he'd consumed, he seemed the most sober. Whilst the other three were practically swaying in their seats and slurring their words, he had more control over himself. 

An upbeat tune played throughout the bar and Twelve found his eyes drawn to a stage on the other side of the room where a woman was stepping up to a mic. A screen was to the side of the stage, showing lyrics to the song. 

Turning back to his drink, he found his three other regenerations staring at him with matching grins. At that moment, he wanted to just disappear. 

"What?" He demanded. 

"Are you thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?" Eleven cheesily questioned. 

Twelve shook his head, "no."

"Aw, come on, Mr Grumpy," Thirteen said, hopping off her stool. Ten and Eleven were quick to join her, with Thirteen helping Eleven when he almost hit the ground. "It'll be fun," she tried to persuade him. 

"No, it won't," he denied and returned to drinking his drink. 

His drink that was suddenly snatched from his grip as he was roughly pulled to his feet. He stumbled a bit at being yanked from his tool and to the ground. The sudden difference in height making his knees almost buckle.

"What do you think you're doin'?" He snapped at Thirteen, the one who'd pulled him from his stool. 

"We're goin' t' do karaoke," she told him obviously, swiping blonde hair from her face.

"I don't do karaoke," Twelve told her, but put up little fight as she started directing him to the man in charge of the music.

"Blah, blah, blah," Eleven mocked, to which Twelve turned to glare at him, shrugging his sleeve out of Thirteen's grasp.

"God, when did we get so moody?" Ten muttered to Eleven. 

Twelve made a point of crossing his arms as Thirteen spoke to the alien DJ and requested a song. The woman on the stage was just finishing up her song, impressively holding the final note, and Twelve sighed heavily. That meant it was his and his other selve's turn. He'd been hoping for at least another minute to mentally prepare himself for the embarrassment that would soon come.

He turned to the table beside him and eyed the drink a Hipocci seemed to be drinking. 

"Are you done with this?" He asked the alien. "Good," he cut in before the Hipocci could answer. He picked up the drink and downed its contents, ignoring the Hipocci's stuttering. 

When he'd emptied the glass, he wiped his mouth and followed his other regenerations on stage. He wasn't sure what the alien had been drinking, but he could feel he burn in his throat. That was probably why they hadn't drank more than at least one or two sips yet. He rolled his shoulders and coughed a bit, blinking his eyes when the burn in his throat made them water.

The burning feeling vanished a second or two later as the DJ passed him, Ten, Eleven, and Thirteen mics. 

"What are we singing?" He asked Ten.

"Mambo No. 5," Ten answered with a grin. The spikey haired man had brought out his clever specs and tied his tie around his head, making him look stupid. 

"What?!" Twelve questioned. 

"Mambo No. 5," Ten repeated, slower this time.

"Yes, yes, I heard you the first time," Twelve said, "why this song? It's stupid." 

"Eleven wanted to," Ten shrugged, "I think it's a pretty good song."

At the same time, Eleven and Thirteen had already merrily started singing. Twelve found himself wondering when alien bars had started playing human music, anyway.

" _To the liquor store around the corner, the boys say they want some gin and juice, but I really don't wanna_ ," Ten, Eleven, and Thirteen sang together, already hopping around the stage without a care in the world.

Just as Twelve was beginning to reluctantly bring the mic to his lips and loosen up, he was roughly dragged over to Ten and Eleven by Thirteen. 

"Come on!" She encouraged, moving the mic away from her lips.

"Fine," Twelve gave in, bringing the mic to his own lips with more purpose this time. His future self grinned happily and went back to singing.

" _A little bit of Monica in my life, a little bit of Erica by my side,_ " he sang with his other regenerations.

* * *

"You know, we should prob'ly get goin'," Twelve slurred to Ten, Eleven, and Thirteen. The latter hiccupped and the other two nodded, agreeing with him. "We've been here too long," he continued, forcing his eyes open, "the timelines... the timelines... y'know what I mean..."

"Mhm," Eleven agreed, "jus' five more minutes, though. We can stay five more minutes."

Thirteen nodded her head vigorously in her own agreement, slowly bringing a glass to her lips before shaking her head and putting it back on the table. 

"I can' remember where I parked my TARDIS," Ten admitted, absently watching a small fly buzz past. 

"I parked mine in an alley," Thirteen said.

"So did I," Twelve looked at her. 

"And me," Eleven piped up.

All three groaned, using the little effort they had left. 

"Excuse me," the old bartender came up to them, drying a glass as he did, "the bar closes in a couple minutes. You might want to think about leaving now, the state you're in."

The group nodded and started slowly shuffling off their stools, pushing away from the bar they'd been leaning on.

"Do you need help? I can call a shuttle for you?" The bartender offered kindly. 

"No, no," Eleven said, leaning on Ten, "we parked out ship nearby." 

"Oh, okay, if you're sure..." 

"We're sure," Twelve grinned, leading the way from the bar. 

"Uh, sir, the exit is that way," the bartender told Twelve a moment later. Twelve stopped and looked in the directuon the bartender was pointing, where a double door with a neon sign reading 'EXIT' stood.

"Right, of course," Twelve blinked at the sign. "Come on," he said to his other selves.

With Thirteen holding onto his arm, Ten on hers, and Eleven on Ten's the odd group managed to leave the bar and exit into the cool night air without too much incident. Looking around, it took a few minutes between the four of them for them to find the alley they'd all parked their TARDISes in.

When they did, they all made a conscious effort to keep their eye on the ground as they made their way over it, so they wouldn't trip over anything like they nearly had exiting the bar. 

About ten minutes and a lot of laughing later, the four of them made it to the alley and stumbled down it, managing to reach Thirteen's TARDIS before Twelve tripped and faceplanted the floor. 

"The sign is black," Eleven slurred, looking offended as he stared at the TARDIS. 

"I know," Thirteen grinned and patted said sign. 

"I don't like it," Ten stated, making a face.

"Oh, you never do," Thirteen retorted, using the door as support.

The door swung open with an added voice asking, "is that you, Doc?"

As the door opened, Thirteen fell to the floor, half in and half out of the TARDIS. She grunted at the impact and let out a breath of air.

"Blimey, I'm sorry, Doc! Are you alright?" The man who'd opened the door asked as he crouched down and helped her up, ignoring the other Doctor's laughing at the sight.

"Fine, Graham," the Doctor wheezed, accepting the help as she knew she couldn't stand by herself.

"You smell like a bar," Graham noted, "is that where you got off to? A bar?" 

"Maybe," Thirteen admitted sheepishly. 

"Who're they?" Graham asked, gesturing to the other Doctor's. 

"They're me!" Thirteen answered happily, still using Graham for support, an arm spread out in their direction. The other Doctor's waved, still holding onto each other for support.

Graham blinked, "they're you?"

"Yup!"

"How can they be you when you're standin' in front of me?" 

"Oh, never mind," Thirteen backtracked. "Anyway, it's been lovely, me," she addressed the other Doctor's, "shame neither of us will remember this."

"It's been a blast, Doctor," Ten slurred to his future selves with a little wave, "see ya around." 

With that said, Ten shuffled off to where his own TARDIS stood at the far end of the alley, mostlt hidden in the shadows. 

Eleven nodded and straightened his bowtie,. "Best get off," he nodded, "the Ponds will be wondering where I am." Twelve and Thirteen nodded their own heads, swallowing the lump in their throats at the thought of the Ponds. Eleven smiled and wobbled slightly down the alley to his TARDIS. 

To the sound of Eleven's TARDIS wheezing, Twelve turned his gaze to Thirteen. The latter pulled away from Graham and threw herself at him. Twelve didn't return the hug, but made sure not to topple over and take them both down.

"I'm sorry," Thirteen whispered and pulled away from him, this time using the TARDIS a support.

Twelve wasn't sure what she was sorry for, but gave her a grateful nod, knowing he would find out soon enough. 

"Goodbye, Doctor," Twelve said as steadily as he could.

"Goodbye, Doctor," Thirteen returned with a smile. 

Before their eyes, a fourth TARDIS shimmered into view as if it had been there the entire time. With a final wave, Twelve turned around and entered his ship. Only a moment later, the TARDIS disappeared altogether, blowing a few leaves and some dust around as it did so.

"Graham," the Doctor said to her companion who had been watching with beffudlement.

"Yeah, Doc?" 

"Catch me," she requested just as she fell forward, unconscious.

"Bloody hell," Graham gasped and leapt forward to catch her before she hit the concrete ground.

 

 


End file.
